


good news is on the way

by shinealightonme



Series: what useless tools ourselves [7]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Author is horrified to realize she currently misses the city of Los Angeles, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Multi, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 04:52:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18844024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinealightonme/pseuds/shinealightonme
Summary: "And to think that you criticized me when I said that one must always keep expensive champagne on hand in case of emergencies."





	good news is on the way

**Author's Note:**

> This is an outside POV missing scene from a sequel fic to an AU which was mostly an excuse to make fun of a city I haven't lived in in three years -- in other words, this fic is SELF-INDULGENT AS ALL GET OUT. It is also my 50th complete Raven Cycle fic. If you can't be self-indulgent when you hit fifty then what's even the point?

Blue had once made the mistake, in the early days of her association with Ronan Lynch, of implying that Adam was the only reason he ever got anywhere on time. Ronan then made a point of showing up before her every single time they did anything together for the entire next year. The night that she got to a restaurant an hour before Gansey's reservation and found Ronan already sitting at the bar, she'd finally given up on beating him and just leaned into the fact that everyone showing up on time was one less thing to trigger Gansey's anxiety.

So when Henry comments "it is quite out of character for Adam to be this late," Blue sips her wine and refrains from saying _if Ronan is late to dinner at my house it's because he's dead in a ditch._

"I'll try calling him again." Dinner has been ready for forty minutes, because they were expecting Adam and Ronan forty-five minutes ago. Without cooking to fuss with, Gansey has resorted to an increasingly bizarre series of tasks to try to distract himself and pretend he isn't worried. There are neatly folded napkins at every place setting on the table, the chef's knives have never been sharper, and the silverware is freshly polished, which depresses her. She likes to pretend their silverware isn't made of actual silver.

Blue says "good idea," and then while Gansey is looking at his phone she eyes the wine bottle in front of Henry. He passes it to her and she tops off Gansey's glass and then hands it back so it's in place by the time he looks up, phone to his ear.

"Adam! I'm glad I caught you, I was just checking that we're still on for dinner?"

There's a pause, during which Henry leans back in his chair and takes a bite out of one of the dinner rolls. Blue does not relax. Adam picking up his phone does not guarantee that everyone still has all of their limbs.

"Oh," Gansey says, and his voice has dropped half an octave. Not a good sign for Ronan's arms and legs. "No, that's okay, it's -- where are you? I can't hear you very well."

Blue narrows her eyes. Hospitals are loud.

"Really? Where are you going? Oh. That's -- nice."

Even for the sake of decorum Blue cannot imagine Gansey referring to dismemberment as _nice_. She relaxes.

She immediately regrets it when Gansey yells "you're _what_?"

Henry takes the phone out of Gansey's hand to put it on speaker. Blue doesn't blame him. He thrives on intrigue. Any more being left out might actually kill him.

" -- _engaged_ ," Adam is saying.

"That's -- " Gansey freezes up. A familiar sight: he has too many things he wants to say all at once. Blue rubs her thumb over his palm and watches him work through it. "That's wonderful, Adam, congratulations. That's fantastic. Please tell Ronan I said congratulations," and it is, honestly, a plea. He needs to share.

"Gansey says congratulations," Adam says, drifting away from the receiver. It says something about his mood that he's willing to parrot Gansey.

"When did this happen?" He has to repeat the question a moment later because an antiseptic voice in the background says something just then about _departures_.

"Oh, um. An hour ago? Maybe two." Adam sounds like he also has too many things he wants to say all at once.

Henry chimes in: "And you immediately fled for the airport upon realizing your mistake?"

"Oh, hi, Henry. No, we're going to Ireland."

Gansey asks "you're getting married in Ireland?" That voice might be enough to fool Adam, with the speakerphone connection and the sound of the airport and the momentous life event. It does not fool Blue. Gansey is devastated.

Blue has a little more faith in their friends than Gansey does, or else a little more faith in herself. There's no way Adam and Ronan are eloping, not unless they _want_ her to hunt them down and ruin the beginning of their marriage.

"No," Adam says, "we're just -- honestly I have no idea. We're happy, we wanted to celebrate."

"An engagement honeymoon," Henry says thoughtfully. "What a decadent idea, I'm surprised I didn't think of it. I approve thoroughly."

"I'll let Ronan know, I'm sure that he was dying for your approval."

"None of you know how to tell a story," Blue says. "How did it happen? Who asked?"

"I proposed," Adam says.

Ronan's voice comes through the line, and they can hear him pretty well in spite of everything. He's probably pressed right up against Adam, listening in and pretending he isn't, like the sappy loser he is. Blue is going to lord this over him _forever_. "That's a lie, you're a fucking liar."

"I proposed first."

"Mine was better."

"Yours was tragic," Adam argues. "The least romantic thing I've ever seen, I'm embarrassed that we're getting married -- oh my God, we're getting married..."

There's a burst of white noise and then Ronan's voice gets clearer. He's given up pretending he doesn't care about this phone call. "Way to go, you broke my fiancé."

In the background Blue can just make out Adam saying _fiancé, holy shit --_

"When are you coming back?" she asks.

"Dunno."

"I thought Adam had a trial?"

"Nope, he quit."

More than engagements, more than international travel, more than Ronan Lynch missing a chance to show her up for something she said four years ago when she barely knew him, _that_ surprises her: Adam Parrish, backing out of a work obligation? "He's off the trial?"

"No," Adam says, "I quit. I left the firm."

Even Henry is surprised by that, and he works in technology and film, two fields where people switch jobs, from what Blue has observed somewhere on an average of eight times a year. Blue interned at Adam's firm; she tries to imagine how they feel about the lead attorney on a case leaving immediately before a trial started. It's possible this whirlwind romantic trip is actually an attempt to escape the country before every last lawyer and paralegal in the firm joins together in a collaborative execution, Murder on the Orient Express style.

Gansey manages to say "what?" even though his gears are still grinding against each other.

Ronan comes back on the line: "If you try to talk him out of this I swear to God I will key your Camaro."

"I wouldn't second guess either of you, I only mean -- you've had an eventful day, haven't you?"

"Yup, so now we're fucking off to Dublin. I'm telling Matthew the news in person. None of you better post any shit on Facebook."

Henry sets his phone down on the counter in a deliberate manner that says he was already in the middle of doing just that, and then he shrugs and picks it back up again.

Blue takes it out of his hand and turns it off. The fact that he is Facebook friends with Matthew Lynch despite never once meeting him is proof that he cannot be trusted with this secret.

"Oh, shoot, they just called our boarding group," Adam says. "We're in first class, can you believe it?"

Blue asks, "You think that's the part of this conversation that's surprising?"

Adam laughs. Not at himself, not to diffuse tension, not in a mean spirit, just because he's happy. Blue's heard that before, but it's still a precious sound, even over the cell phone interference and someone getting paged about a lost piece of baggage. "We'll call you when we land, okay? Or, I don't know, if the timing is weird we'll call tomorrow. I'm sorry about dinner, we just -- forgot."

"Don't worry about it," Blue says, "I never expect Ronan to be anywhere on time."

"Fuck you, Sargent. See if we give you anything cool to do in the wedding."

"Oh, shit, we have to plan a wedding..."

That sounds like the beginning of another spiral from Adam, so Blue says, "have a good flight, guys, we'll talk later," and then hangs up the phone.

"Well. I suppose there's no reason to hold dinner any longer." Gansey carries the salad bowl over to the table and sets it down, a jerky robot-like motion, and then he drops into a chair with a sudden graceless gesture like his programming just froze up.

"Aw," Henry says, "true love broke him."

"Poor thing." Blue ruffles Gansey's hair and kisses his forehead. He's never shown any strong feelings one way or the other about marriage, to her relief and his parents' increasingly poorly disguised irritation -- but apparently that indifference was only about his _own_ marriage.

Henry dives into the fridge and emerges with a bottle. "And to think that you criticized me when I said that one must always keep expensive champagne on hand in case of emergencies."

"I criticized because I don't like champagne," Blue says, but she sets out three flutes anyway. Tonight feels like a good night to do things in threes, all of them together.

"I must admit to a terrible curiosity," Henry says as Blue takes the champagne bottle away. He always goes for a big splashy uncorking, and just because she doesn't like champagne doesn't mean she wants to waste it. "Was Lynch's proposal so unromantic? Or did he in fact do a wonderful job and Parrish is just pretending?"

"Ronan probably just shoved the prenup at him and told him to sign it."

"You think there was a prenup?"

"I know there was." Blue pops the cork. "I drafted it."

"You knew about this?" Henry demands. "And you said _nothing_ to me?"

Blue pulls his phone halfway out of her pocket.

Henry tips an imaginary hat to her: _touché._

"I didn't know Adam was leaving his job," she concedes. She doesn't want Henry to think she was keeping _all_ of the gossip from him. "But yeah. Ronan asked me to draft something so half his money would become Adam's when they got married."

"I take it back, that is -- oddly romantic in a practical way, which is really the best way of wooing Adam Parrish."

"What, being practical about it?"

"Can you tell me that I am wrong?"

"I can ask why you already have a strategy formed."

"You never ask yourself what strategy you would use to romance your friends, given a chance?" Henry asks, honestly curious.

"If I have to change my behavior to romance someone, then I don't want them."

"That is why you would make a terrible spy," Henry tells her, and adds, "but a wonderful girlfriend," like he thinks she might be offended that she's not James Bond. She kisses him to make it clear there are no hard feelings.

Gansey finishes rebooting. "Ronan is getting _married_."

Blue bends down to kiss him, too. "Yeah, he is. If you just realized you're in love with him, Henry probably has a plan ready to seduce him."

"No, I'm happy for them, really, I just -- " Gansey rubs at his eyes, pushing his glasses up to his forehead, awkward. Blue gently lifts them off his face. "I've spent so much of my life worrying about him, even though I know that hasn't been fair to Ronan at times. It hasn't been fair to _me_. But I started worrying when we were sixteen years old and I didn't know how to stop. But -- he's fine, isn't he?"

Blue and Henry both say "yes, he is," but with very different intonations.

Blue can't help but grin, even when she says "it's not very nice to celebrate your friend's engagement by objectifying him."

"It's not very nice of him to be monogamously engaged."

"I wouldn't want you to seduce Ronan, anyway," Blue says. "I don't want you to change how you act."

Henry blinks, quickly. It's ridiculous; he'll make the most over-the-top, flowery, outrageous declarations of love and devotion that Blue has ever heard, worse than any cheesy old dialogue from any cheesy old movie, and he won't even blush. But then Blue says something perfectly straightforward and suddenly he can't speak.

"There was some discussion of a toast?" Gansey's priorities are on display: undying devotion to his friends, and then proper social etiquette, and then every other aspect of life.

Blue takes the champagne flute that Henry passes to her and holds it up. "To Adam and Ronan."

Henry holds his glass up as well. "To love."

Gansey looks at his glass without really seeing it. Blue slips her hand into his free hand. He looks up at smiles, at her, and then at Henry.

"To us."

"Ah, that is not fair," Henry says. "You are just copying my toast," and great, now both of Blue's boyfriends look ready to burst into tears.

She has to clear her throat before she can say "to eating dinner before the food gets cold."

Gansey squeezes her hand and Henry sparkles with laughter like champagne bubbles as they clink their glasses in a toast.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this fic you can [reblog it on tumblr](https://toast-the-unknowing.tumblr.com/post/184910834420/good-news-is-on-the-way-shinealightonme-raven).


End file.
